Broken bottles and empty dreams
by LexxieKra
Summary: Your name is Roxy Lalonde and you really hate yourself right now. You're seventeen years old and thanks to the help of your best friend, Dirk Strider, you've quit drinking, so when all your friends start hating you, you kinda start hating yourself too. and now you're here. Late night sadstuck drabble I am hella sorry for writing this cause I adore Roxy so much


Your name is Roxy Lalonde and you really fucking hate yourself right now.

you tipped the bottle back against your lips, gulping from it as the red liquid burned through your throat and body.

You had tried so hard, you had tried so fucking hard.

A few more tears slipped down your face as you took another swig from the nearly empty bottle, you sighed and closed your eyes.

'_I liked you better when you drank'_ The memories floated back at you.

'_I didn't know you where such a bitch when you sobor_' another screamed at you from the tears quickly turned to sobs that racked through your whole body, you had tried so hard and had finally quit drinking. Your best friend helped you through the withdrawls and by your seventeenth birthday, you where completly sobor. that was five months ago, since then everyone had turned against you it seemed.

so here you where, sobbing grossly in your bathroom, sourounded by already empty vodka bottles, you drained the one in your hand and tossed into the pile.

"Fuck" you mumbled as you tried to move. Not gonna happen, you decide. You pick up the last full bottle of liqour and cracked it open. chugging it down and wincing at the burn, you where so mad, not even at them per se, but everything. They had been your best friends for years, you met them shortly after your mom dissapeared and you started living on your own, all of you had been really close ever since then. The only one who stayed by you was Dirk, and you loved him like he was your brother. He was dealing with some stuff in his life right now and had gone to visit his brother in Hollywood. your phone began to ring, you slipped it out of your pocket and after checking the texts to find only hateful crap from the other three people you used to be friends with, you found a message from Dirk.

"_You alright, Ro-la?_" you sighed and flung your phone across the room, it landing in the bathtub noisly. You closed your eyes and drained the last bottle, letting it slip from your fingers and it shattered against the hardwood floor. Your hate slowly burned out as the massive amounts of booze in your system burned in your body, you couldn't move, everything was too blurry.

**_The key to life_**you think to yourself, making a small laugh come out of you.

_**when i'm sober,**__**i feel pain**__._ great you tried to run your hands through your short blonde hair, but found they where shaking too much.

You faintly heard a knock on the apartment door, a voice called out.

"Roxy, are you there? I heard noise and wanted to be sure you where okay" you slumped against the wall. It was your neighbor, a quiet girl who only spoke with you occasionally. Damara, you are pretty sure is her name.

She had gone through a lot and she had picked your drunk and sobbing butt out of the hallway more than once, not really speaking much, just taking care of you then leaving to go back to her apartment. You've always meant to legitimately befriend her, but anytime you are near her when your friends where around, she would quickly duck into her apartment. So you, Jake, Dirk, Meenah, and Jane would just head into your apartment to hang out. you suppose none of that mattered now, since you where turning a piece of broken glass in your hands, dark thoughts playing on your slurring brain. You laughed painfully and tossed it away, not tonight, you wish but not yet. You head Damara return to her apartment and you crawled out of the bathroom, making part way down the hallway of your apartment before just laying in the there.

You felt sick, in more ways then one. You felt the hatred and booze burn stronger whenever you moved, making fresh tears roll down your face.

You had tried so goddamn hard, you where so many things besides a boozer, but no one cared about that.

No one liked you sober, and at this point, you didn't like yourself in anyway. So fine! you'll drink till things go back to how they where before, so you can all be friends again. You made it to the kitchen finally, using the table to haul yourself up, you grabbed one of the bottles you didn't take with you on the way to your room several hours ago, before noticing you had to pee and went to the bathroom. your ex friends texting you mean things, making you kind of collapse on the floor in a depressed mess, and you started drinking again. your hand hurt where it was clutching the bottle, and when you opened your palm you realized the it was cut, some glass was still lodged into the skin. You guess it must have been from dropping the bottle. You tried to make it to the sink, but slipped when you stood up, making you hit the floor in a painful oopmh. You laid there and cried and wished you didn't exist until your eyes where so heavy you couldn't keep them open anymore. You shut them and let the tears roll freely and messily as you passed out.


End file.
